Love Hurts
by KayLynn911
Summary: Written from Murtagh's point of view, this fic takes place at the end of Eldest. It tells his story filled with pain, choices, and heartache.
1. Chapter 1: Torture

**Disclaimer:** I am not Christopher Paolini, nor do I claim to be. No, he is in fact a boy and I am pretty sure that I am not. I do not claim these characters as my own, though I do in fact change them to make them more 'my own'-so to speak.

This piece is told from Murtagh's point of view. The scene takes place at the end of Eldest and does not entirely follow the book. Let me know your thoughts on it once you're done reading. (Especially if it sucks!)

"You will follow my army at a distance, Edoc'sil." I nodded, frowning as he spoke my true name. The fact that he knew it meant that I had absolutely no choice. I kept my eyes lowered, I didn't want to look at the man. He was waiting for a real answer, so I forced myself to look up and meet his cruel stare.

"Yes, my King." Galbatorix's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press the issue further, instead he spoke again.

"You have but one job Murtagh, and I think you know what that is." I nodded again, I knew. I knew all too well what he wanted me to do. It was the one job that only I could do, the job he had been training me for.

"Kill the rider," I answered and I saw a wicked smirk form across the vile man's lips.

"And you understand the punishments if you let him get away?" He watched me cringe and his smirk grew. I understood...too well for my liking. Galbatorix didn't wait for an answer this time, he continued,

"You're going to be a great asset to me Murtagh, just like your father." I kept my face hard but my body filled with anger and disgust.

The King must have seen a flare across my face, for he continued, "You'll do well to control that temper of yours, Murtagh." I uncurled my fingers, relaxing the fists I had made unconsciously. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I had always had a quick temper, and one thing I learned in my time with Galbatorix is that it only leads to trouble...and pain.

"Yes, sir," I answered, calmly. I hated when he brought up my father, and he _knew_ that. He saw it each and every time he brought up Morzan, that flare of anger and hatred. He did it on purpose.

"You are dismissed, Edoc'sil." I held back another cringe and turned to leave, but he stopped me. I could feel his power over me, the stinging of his magic controlling me. My legs turned me back towards him and then gave out from under me, forcing me to my knees, into a bow. I didn't fight it, not that I could have. He was too powerful, full of dark magic that only hurt more when you fought against it.

"That's better," the king hissed and released his hold on me. I didn't risk looking up, but instead got back to my feet and bowed to him properly, whispering,

"My king..." and leaving the throne room as quickly as possible. Once in the hallway, I leaned up against the stone wall and tried to calm down. My hatred was still there, but not for my father, no, this was for Galbatorix.

After a moment I pushed myself from the wall and made my way to Thorn. The army had already left, so they'd have to get going soon also. Thorn was waiting for me by the front gate and he was in the same mood as I was.

_"If there was any other way, Murtagh..." _he started to say, but I cut him off,

_"We have no choice Thorn...I have no choice." _Thorn went silent and I climbed into the saddle without a sound, leaving my bow behind. I wouldn't need it, I had my sword, that's all I'd need.

Thorn pushed off the ground with a quick jump into the air and flapped his giant wings, and we were on our way.

A few days later we arrived in Surda, the battle had already started. Thorn landed some distance away, so that we could watch for our chance to strike. I needed Eragon alone. This was our fight.

I stared at the battle for a while, my eyes red while I borrowed Thorn's vision. After a little while I saw my opportunity. He was alone, on the hill. He had sent away the others around him. Galbatorix's voice echoed in my head, egging me on and I frowned, instructing Thorn to fly.

He did, we shot into the air and flew quickly towards the hill that Eragon was. We must have looked like a red blur in the sky, until Thorn flew low and I jumped, landing a few feet from Eragon.

Eragon's eyes were on my now, holding so many emotions that it didn't seem possible. I kept my face emotionless and pulled my sword from it's sheath. His eyes widened now, "M-Murtagh? I thought, well, you were dead!"

I nodded, "That's what they wanted you to think." I didn't feel like explaining everything now, but I knew Eragon. He'd ask. As if on cue, Eragon asked,

"They?" Then he stopped, realization hitting his not Elfish face. I nodded and replied,

"The twins."

"But...how? I mean..." I rolled my eyes and answered,

"In all the commotion of the battle, after Adjihad was killed. Someone came up behind me and knocked me out," I stopped, refraining from rubbing the back of my head from the memory. "When I woke up I was in the castle..."

"Galbatorix! How could you, Murtagh!?" I felt my anger flaring again, but replied calmly,

"I had no choice..."

"You always have a choice, Murtagh!" he practically screamed at me. I could hear the pain behind his words, the betrayal. He had a right to hate me now...Funny how he was the only one that had accepted me in the first place...

"Not this time," I replied simply. He didn't understand the truth of my words. I felt my grip on the sword in my hand tighten. Eragon drew his sword and the red blade caught the light and shined. Zar'roc. _My_ father's sword, no..._our_ father's sword.

I took my stance and poised myself to attack and defend. I was a better swordsman, that I knew, this would be too easy. I attacked, striking left and right, a little surprised that he could now keep up. But then again, I wasn't really trying. You could say that I was toying with him, making him think we were evenly matched now, but we were not in the least.

"You've improved," I said softly, blocking his strike with ease and striking him hard. My comment caught him off guard and he struggled to block my strike. A cruel smile touched my lips, and I couldn't make it leave.

He fought back, not answering my comment, he was already starting to tire. Even his Elfish body could not go on forever. I felt beads of sweat upon my forehead but I knew I could go on like this for hours. I was a warrior from birth, he was just a farm boy.

The battle raged on around us, while our one-on-one battle continued. Finally, I decided that enough was enough. I slammed my sword down on his and broke his grip on the heavy sword. He dropped it and I yelled, "Thrysta!"

Eragon flew backwards with the power of my spell and his head cracked up against the rock. More damage done to the rock in my opinion. He winced and tried to get up, but I had already walked towards him with my sword. My hand-and-a-half sword's tip pointed at his neck. He stiffened, but spit out,

"You are your father!" I didn't move. He knew that would throw me off. I stared at the blood trickling down Eragon's forehead and I looked down, not moving my sword. My scar burned my back, memories from just last year haunted me now. And from years before...

"You know Eragon," I finally said, "We're a lot more alike than you think we are."

Eragon looked at me, obviously confused, so I explained.

"Your mother, her name was Selena...she was my mother too. We're brothers. Which makes you the youngest son of Mor-"

He cut me off, "No!" Pushing past my sword and getting to his feet, he shoved my chest. I staggered back a step and he continued to yell, "You're lying. Galbatorix wants you to trick me!"

I simply shook my head and let him speak, "It looks like Galbatorix has corrupted you more than I thought."

I looked up, my brown eyes meeting his. _"I can't do this."_

Thorn answered from somewhere behind me, _"You have to, he'll know if we don't."_The thought of Galbatorix fueled my anger and I struck Eragon to the ground. He fell to his knees and looked up at me. My sword was at his neck again, this time touching his skin. He wouldn't be able to distract me this time. Nothing would.

His face was pleading me, he wanted to live. More than anything, he wanted to live. "You know Eragon..." I started, looking away from his gaze, past him. I caught the sight of a figure on the hill. She looked like a warrior angel.

I lost all train of thought by the look on her face. She wasn't smiling, no, she had a look of disgust on her sweet face. She was watching. She had seen the monster I was, the monster that I had become...

Her lips trembled slightly as she caught my eye and she whispered, "No. Please."  
Nasuada. My one weakness.

I tore my gaze from her, remembering when I had first seen her, back in the prison in the Varden. She had been my first visitor, and one that I certainly wasn't expecting. She had touched my heart, and would be the death of me...

I looked at Eragon, torn. I couldn't hurt Nasuada any more than I had. I pulled my sword from Eragon's neck and whispered, "Keep your life this time brother, but next time know...I won't have a choice but to kill you."

I walked past the stunned Eragon and up to Nasuada. She backed away a step and my heart sank. "Nasuada, please."

Her face hardened and she placed her hand on her jeweled dagger. I frowned and looked over my shoulder at Thorn. I had to go. Turning back to her I spoke so softly that only she could hear, "Galbatorix may hold my life, but you Nasuada, hold my heart."

I could tell that she was trying not to smile and so I stepped towards her and took her face in my hand, bringing my lips to hers in a tender kiss. When I pulled away she looked dazed, her eyes were closed. I smiled slightly and caressed her cheek with my fingertips. She smiled more and I backed away, letting my arm fall to my side as I turned my back to her and strode back over to the still-stunned Eragon.

I bent down and picked up Zar'roc. "This is my sword by right, as the eldest son of Morzan."

I stole one last glance at Nasuada and climbed into Thorn's saddle, carrying Zar'roc, flying off quickly before I could change my mind.

It seemed like the trip back to the castle took no time at all, even though Thorn flew as slowly as possible.

_"He's going to kill me..."_ I thought morbidly.

_"You knew what you were getting yourself into when you didn't follow orders," _Thorn replied harshly.

I got down off him and headed inside to meet my fate.

Galbatorix was waiting in the throne room, and I tapped on the door slowly.

"Enter," boomed a voice. He was angry, already. This wasn't good.

I crept inside, keeping my eyes low as I walked up to him, stopping a few feet from his throne and bowing. "My king..."

He said nothing at first, waiting for me to straighten and look at him. "I'm very disappointed in you Murtagh."

I nodded, "Yes, sir."

"I trust you know the penalties for disobeying orders." I cringed and looked down, ready for what ever he threw at me, but at the same time, afraid for my life.

"You must be punished," he said simply before uttering a silent spell. I cried out as pain filled my body. Everything went black, but I could still feel. Agony raced through me and I felt myself drop to my knees and my jaw stiffened to refrain from screaming.

After a few minutes of this he released his spell and I fell to the ground. I could feel myself shaking, unable to control the tremors that coursed through me. The pain was still there, just not as potent now.

"Next time, he _won't_ get away from you, will he, Edoc'sil?" He sat there, waiting for my answer but I couldn't make myself speak. He uttered a simple spell, "Rïsa."

I felt myself rise off of the floor, back to my feet and he stared at me, "Will he?"

I shook my head and managed to speak, "N-no, sir."

He smiled, pleased and released his spell again, sending me crashing back to the floor. I slammed against the stone and I heard a snap of the king's fingers. Two guards came up behind me and picked me up by my arms. I had no energy to fight them, I could still feel the pain from Galbatorix's spell in my being.

Galbatorix looked at the men and said, "Lock him up."

My eyes widened slightly and the men dragged me from the room, throwing my into one of the torture cells in the dungeon and locking the cell. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.

I laid back against the wall and closed my eyes, thinking of Nasuada as I dozed. My muscles ached horribly, and every bone in my body felt like it had snapped in two. My punishment had just started...and it wouldn't end until Eragon was dead. I knew it. I knew what I was in for.

What you'll do for love...


	2. Chapter 2: Betrayal

Three weeks later I was let out of my prison. A guard led me straight up to the throne room, as I expected. I couldn't think straight, my body felt weak and bruised, which I knew it was, and my head pounded as the light hit my eyes for the first time in weeks. Before I knew it the guard slammed his fist into my back, forcing me to bow before the king.

I didn't see the cruel smirk upon Galbatorixs' lips, but I knew it was there. He got a sick thrill out of seeing people in pain, especially me. Finally the man spoke,

"You know Murtagh, I've always thought of you as a son, you must know that," I ground my teeth together and the guard forced me back up, pulling me by my hair. This being the first time I looked at the man who thought of me as his son, I only just now saw what he held.

The red blade caught the light and momentarily blinded me, but I managed a small smile. The king saw my smile and waved the guard off. The guard reluctantly released my hair and clothes and left.

"Come on son, this sword is yours by right."

My smile grew and I took a step towards the throne. Galbatorix didn't move so I continued, and once at his feet I bowed on my own. He held the sword out to me and I grasped the hilt, staring into the sapphire. It seemed to smile back at me, as did the blade as it caught my reflection. I held the blade across my palms and looked up at Galbatorix.

He looked, what was the word I was looking for…pleasant? He was smiling, a happy smile. What had happened in those three weeks? What brought about this sudden change in character? I was still expecting the worst.

"Tell me Murtagh, have you learned your lesson?" he asked calmly. I nodded and replied quietly, going for remorse,

"I have, sir."

I watched him nod and I bowed my head. As much as I hated to admit it, I respected this man, however cruel and malicious he might be. But that respect had its limits and he knew how to push them.

The king sighed after a moment and said,

"Go get cleaned up, I'll see you for dinner." He sat back in his throne and I left silently, after bowing once more, with my fathers' sword, my sword.

Once out of the throne room I relaxed and went to my chamber, glad to finally be allowed in my own room. I peeled off my soiled clothing, wincing as the scars from my recent lashing sent pain through my back. I hadn't gotten a good night sleep in weeks, so I collapsed onto my bed and closed my eyes.

Within a few seconds of my mind wandering I could feel myself drifting. Before I knew it I was walking along the roads of Carvahall, the streets empty except for me. Why was I here? I've only ever been here once, and that was years ago.

All I could hear were the dull echo of my footsteps against the dirt and a muffled sob. I followed the sob into a small house, and there lay Nasuada, Galbatorix standing over her. Galbatorixs' sword was covered in blood, Nasuada's blood. She looked at me, her beautiful eyes cloudy and she whispered,

"Murtagh…I love-" but she didn't finish, her head fell to the side unmoving. Galbatorix looked over at me and growled, his eyes black.

"You!" he grabbed for me but missed and I fell back, waking myself from my dream. Covered in perspiration I sat up, breathing hard. Nasuada.

Rushing from my room I ran outside to the pond, still breathing hard. 'No, she can't be dead. I'll prove my vision wrong,' I thought frantically. I kneeled at the water's edge and whispered,

"Draumr kópa." Dream Stare. The water blurred, trying to form the picture that I sought. It kept blurring and I shook my head. "No…" In anger I slapped the water, disrupting the spell and splashing water everywhere. My eyes squeezed shut and I held my face in my hands.

I sat there for a long time, scrying time after time with no luck. She couldn't be dead. My mourning turned into hate, and my hate into rage. Before I knew it I was running towards the castle, Zar'roc in hand. I threw the doors open to the throne room and Galbatorix looked up calmly.

"Murtagh, my boy, we missed you at dinner," he said softly, glancing back down at his papers.

"Did you kill her!?" I yelled at him angrily, storming up to his throne. He glanced back up at me and replied with a smirk,

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't Murtagh, I really don't keep track these days." That set me off, I grabbed his tunic and pinned him back against the throne.

"Nasuada," I hissed, "Did you kill her!?"

He laughed, "The leader of the Varden, Murtagh? That's who you're speaking of?"

When he saw that I wasn't laughing, that I was serious, he peeled my hands from his tunic and sat back.

"Murtagh, what do you care? Why would you be so interested in the life of that scanty whore?"

Rage took over and I grabbed the man's neck, forcing him back against the throne again. He choked out a laugh and two armed men grabbed me from behind. I was too angry to deal with them, I wanted Galbatorixs' blood.

Breaking free of their hold I grabbed Zar'roc and with two strikes they were both down, out of my way. I cried out in rage and for the first time in my life saw fear behind the king's eyes. He got to his feet and reached for his sword but I was too quick for him. Zar'roc pierced his chest and he gasped, dropping his sword.

My face was inches from his and I knew he would hear me, "You know I think of you as a father, don't you?" I twisted Zar'roc with a flick of my wrist and yanked it from his flesh.

His eyes narrowed and his body fell limp at my feet. I killed the king of Alagaesia. The penalties of which would be dire. I didn't care, I had nothing left to live for, nothing left to fight for.

I stepped away from the fallen king and turned to leave, I needed to get out of here. I made my way towards the exit and froze. Someone stood in my way. Eragon. He took in the scene and unsheathed his sword. I noted the blue blade and listened as he spoke,

"You _are_ Morzan," his eyes turned blue as he tapped into Saphira's power and he uttered a single word in the ancient language. I felt the air being sucked from my chest and I tried to take in more but I couldn't. He had used a word of death on me.

A loud clang sounded as my sword dropped from my hand and I fell to my knees. Eragon came up next to me and grabbed Zar'roc and ran out, leaving me for dead.

I heard the door slam and I closed my eyes, falling onto my side. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I could do was wait. Wait for death.

The door opened again and I forced my eyes open, but my vision was blurred and I had to blink a few times to see straight. I felt my head being lifted and levitated. My eyes adjusted as I fought consciousness and I saw the lovely face of my Nasuada.

Her eyes and cheeks were wet with fresh tears and she held my head on her lap.

"Murtagh…" she cried, touching my cheek, "Murtagh, I'm so sorry…"

With what was left of my strength I gripped her chin and brought her lips to mine for the last time. When she pulled away she sobbed loudly and held me in her arms.

I felt weaker than I've ever felt, and my eyes closed again, and all I could see was darkness.


	3. Chapter 3: Reunited

**Sorry it took so long for me to update. I had to rewrite this chapter like four times…and well…other things distracted me. Sorry it's so short, but I promise to update soon. I promise. Really, I do. And yes, I did write a spell out in the Ancient Language. Yeah, it took forever and it barely makes sense, but it works. Read and review, por favor!**

_Eka ethgri du súndavar abr hel;  
losna thornessa Shur'tugal fra thornessa freohr.  
Atra blödh hlaupa un hjarta taka,  
vindr gánga un sharjalví tauthr.  
Reisa fra onr slytha Edoc'sil,  
waíse heill abr onr wyrda._

_I invoke the shadows of hell;  
release this Dragon Rider from this death.  
Let blood run and heart take,  
air go and movement follow.  
Raise from your sleep Unconquerable,  
be healed of your fate._

A man chanted a spell over and over again, steadily. He didn't pause, nor did he stop to rest. He sounded like a drone, unattached, unemotional. That's when it registered…I could hear him.

I felt my body jerk and winced as air flooded my lungs harshly. Suddenly I could feel everything, the throbbing pain in my head, bruises, scars, everything. Every sound echoed loudly in my ears and I found my headache growing steadily worse.

_Make it stop!_

I pleaded with myself silently, the ringing in my ears becoming unbearable. Pain coursed freely throughout my body, feeling as if I were being killed all over again, this time with small pointed needles.

Then, just as it had started, it all stopped. Everything stopped, and all I could hear was the slow rhythm of a beating heart…_My _beating heart.

My eyes popped open and I inhaled sharply, staring blankly at the ceiling above me. I was alive.

_But how?…the spell?_

But who said it? Who had that amount of power besides Galbatorix? No one.

I blinked blindly for a few minutes until things came into focus, and I tried to move, starting with my fingers. They twitched slightly, one more than the other because, I realized one was behind held. I turned my head slowly, but as quickly as I could manage, and laid my eyes upon the beautiful Nasuada. She looked drained of energy, but she managed a weak smile.

"Welcome back, my love," she whispered. I moved my lips to speak but she touched two fingers to them, silencing me. "Save your strength." She ran her hand along my cheek lovingly and I smiled, closing my eyes, physically exhausted.

I could feel myself drifting in and out, as I did someone spoke, the same voice that had recited the spell.

"He won't be entirely the same, you realize. He'll be stronger, more powerful, more dangerous…my lady."

"I don't care…"

*** * * * ***

"Relax, Nasuada, leader of the Varden. He will recover. He has always been strong."

That voice…it sounded very familiar now. I had heard it before, but not for years.

_Morzan._

I choked with the realization and my eyes shot open again. Nasuada was at my side in a second, holding my hand, her fingers entwined with mine. I kept coughing, and she held out a small rag, wiping red liquid from my lips. Blood.

I swallowed, the taste of blood potent on my tongue, and sat up slowly.

"Careful, Murtagh," Nasuada cautioned. She motioned towards the bandaging across my chest right over my heart.

"What's this?" I said softly, my voice raspy from lack of use.

"It's why you're still here," she said defensively, "Now please, be careful."

I nodded, sitting up in the bed and for once taking a look around. I was in my old room, the room I'd been given as a child and again when Galbatorix took me in. It didn't hold many memories aside from studies, and private tutors. My eyes landed on the man to my left and I remembered about my realization.

"Morzan," I hissed.

"Son…" he replied, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Don't call me that," I snapped back.

"Murtagh…" Nasuada interrupted, touching my arm lightly.

"What?" I asked, not taking my glare from the man.

"Morzan is—I mean, he did—" she sighed, unable to form a coherent sentence explaining what she needed to say.

"I'm the reason you're not dead right now," Morzan finished, a smirk plastered across his face that all too resembled my own.

There was no denying I was his son, anyone with eyes could tell we were related. But I couldn't stand the man, I hated him, and Nasuada brought him into this. I looked over at her, a little angry,

"How could you bring him into this?"

"Would you have preferred I left you for dead?" she asked, surprised I wasn't at least a little more grateful.

"Yes! Then I wouldn't owe a debt to him!" I growled, anger shining through my voice. The temper I had inherited from the very man I was now in debt to.

Morzan cleared his throat, "I ask you for nothing in return, Murtagh…"

"Now…" I replied, looking back at him. He looked exhausted, almost too exhausted to keep this conversation going. I thought about how much the spell must have taken out of him.

Nasuada cleared her throat now, and stood. "I'll give you two a few minutes." I didn't let go of her hand, and I gave her a look that might as well say,

'Don't leave me alone with him, or one of us is going to kill the other.'

"You'll be fine," she whispered in my ear, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling her hand free and leaving the bedroom.

"Why aren't you dead?" I blurted. Subtle, yes, but I had to know. I had thought him dead for years now. What made him show his face now?

He had no weapons on him that I could see, which was rare. The Morzan I remembered never went anywhere without his sword, two daggers, and at least three other unique weapons.

My hand gripped the hilt of the dagger in my pocket and held it there. If it came to it, I could protect myself. Where was Zar'roc, anyways?

Morzan sat on the edge of the bed, and my automatic reflex was to back away, but I didn't. I wasn't afraid of him, I just hated him with every fiber of my being.

"Galbatorix didn't kill me," he replied, and I could tell that I was about to hear the whole story behind it. "He got paranoid, thought that everyone was betraying him. He started killing workers, and when it finally came to me, he hesitated. I had betrayed him, your mother and I had. He hesitated because I was the only person he trusted, but his paranoia won in the end. Instead of killing me, he banished me from being seen or heard. I lived on, but only in spirit really. No one could see or hear me, but I could see them. I've been trapped in this castle for over a decade."

"That seems like it would be worse than death," I said, my hand loosening on the dagger.

"It was, but you—" he smiled, "You broke the spell by killing him."

_You win some and you lose some, I guess._

"I simply returned the favor. My powers grew over time, even though my dragon died long ago. I had the power, and you needed it."

"You should have—"

He cut me off, "…left you for dead, I know. You've mentioned that." He smirked a little bit. This wasn't Morzan…not the Morzan I remembered. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

I saw Nasuada peek in the doorway and nodded, "Thank you…"

This didn't make up for everything he had done, all the pain he had caused me over the years, but it kind of made me hate him a bit less…if that was possible.

"Now, Murtagh—if you don't mind, I'm going to rest. You should do the same. You've been through quite the ordeal."

He stood up slowly, grunting a little. He looked exhausted.

"Wait…" I heard myself say, before I had time to think it through.

"Yes, son—I mean, Murtagh."

"I thought that this was impossible…bringing the dead back to life. I learned that it was impossible without giving your own life."

"You learned correctly," Morzan smirked, winking as he left the room.

_That…made…no sense…_

Nasuada re-entered the room and smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How did it go?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"He's still alive, isn't he?" I smirked. She laughed and planted a loving kiss on my lips.

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